


Wife of the Okami

by 1800areyouslapping



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Okami!Hanzo, Vaginal Sex, wifey!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1800areyouslapping/pseuds/1800areyouslapping
Summary: You're the wife of the Okami. He comes home after a long day out in the forest, doing Okami things, and you welcome him into your bed.





	Wife of the Okami

Hanzo doesn’t require nor expects you to stay up waiting for him when he foresees being out well into the night, but you do. Could never quite sleep soundly these days without his strong, furnace hot body sleeping next to your own. Or his soft snoring. Or, for a man who at face value is rigid, doesn’t sleep that way. Hanzo sprawls out and almost never of his own volition. He toses in his sleep ‘til he’s taken up most of the tatami. So without him the void space feels much more… uncomfortable than it does when it’s taken up by him.

Besides, your mind won’t stop racing with worried, stomach-turning scenarios. Wondering if the fickle forest has swallowed him up, and perhaps he’ll never walk back through that door.

So you lay under a mountain of furs, watching the fire crackle and dance in the corner of the cottage (mind too occupied for productive things like reading or knitting). It’s a living space that’s not large. No walls between the kitchen, living room, or the bedroom. Allowing the fireplace to keep it warm enough to be comfortable. Even with the howling, raging frigid wind outside. So cold it feels like razors against bare skin.

Acutely keen to the sounds of the wolves, even over the wind, your ears prickle, tingle. Heart racing at the sound of several paws breaking leaves, sticks, and kicking up dirt as they approach the cottage. The pack is home! Surely that means their Master is too. Sitting up you eagerly watch the door. Gingerly it slides open. Icy, pin prickles of cold wind billow in for the moment that it takes Hanzo to enter, and the brief pause in which he had to scold a wolf for trying to follow him in. Effectively the jarring breeze clears your head  _and_  sends a violent shiver down your spine. You couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be out in  _that_  bitterness for twelve hours.

Patiently you remain seated, no matter how spring loaded your legs might feel. Wanting to hop up and give Hanzo a hug and a welcome home kiss. Knowing, however, he likes his space and prefers not to be crowded when he first returns from the hunt. Also knowing that your patience will soon be rewarded. Hanzo is not neglectful. Before Hanzo so much as removes his bow or quiver of arrows from his back he approaches the bed and leans down to give you a kiss.  

Familiar scents permeate your space. Your husband smells like the forest and its many elements. Dirt, foliage. A hint of the cold still weaved and beaten into the furs that kept the frostbite away. A hint of blood and leather.

“How was the hunt?” you asked. “You seem weary,” you added. Essentially answering your own question.  

Hanzo hums. Gives you another kiss on the forehead before leaving you to get cleaned up. “Frustrating, near unprofitable,” he says as he starts the process of striping down. “Seems the creatures would prefer not to die.”

“Damn them and their innate will to live,” you say playfully.

Hanzo humphs, throws a smirk your way, and a small quip. “Frankly; they should be mindful enough to die on my doorstep.”  

In the opposite corner from the chimney, a bathing area with a tub and a seated washing area is nestled, with stone and a small canal system on its borders that funnels the water back outside. Too tired to fill the bath Hanzo strips down and sits on the stool. Uses the heated water from the pot suspended over the irori supplementing warmth, a partner for the raging fireplace, and a cloth to clean the grime from his body.

Hugging your knees you hadn’t removed your eyes from him for a moment. Watched as each layer was peeled off, neatly folded, and put away. Hanzo focused on cleanliness and soothing his hard worked muscles doesn’t pay your unabashed gawking any mind. With his broad, magnificent expanse of back to you, your thighs press together. A subtle pulsing between them that is starting to warm your body more than either of the fires in your shared home.

Hanzo’s muscles ripple as he groans. Rolling his shoulders, and then his neck. Suddenly the stretching stops. He must feel the prickle off eyes at on his back. As his head cocks to the side, sensing. Slowly Hanzo pivots in his seat. Leans forward resting his elbows on his knees.

“Do you need something?” he teases.

“Just you.” 

Hanzo huffs. Turns away, but not before you catch glimpse of a blush and a small grin. Hanzo leans forward to pour the rest of the water over his head. Washes his face vigorously. With wet hair, he slicks it back neat against his head before he hops up off of the stool in one fluid motion. In pursuit of a lazy, beautiful woman who will soothe, distract his tired mind more than the water could ever possibly manage.

Dripping and naked Hanzo approaches you slowly. Taking gradual steps like a predator in his forest, except his prey is more than willing to be pounced upon. Hanzo has long since assured you that he is in fact not a God as many of the villagers would, with immense passion and storytelling, tell their listeners he is. Well, he could still fool you. With his Adonis physique and the stamina that has him staring you down with near primal lust and a growing erection.

Hanzo drops down to his knees just at the edge of the tatami mat. Reaches out grabbing a fist full of furr blanket. Easily yanks it away, tosses it to the side. Your white, wool nightgown’s long, but already scrunched up to above your knees. Groaning, you coyly fall back. Stretching out your legs, spreading your knees a small teasing amount away from each other. All it took was a look, an intense, but at the same time soft, brown-eyed stare to get those legs to spread further. So Hanzo could lean forward, planting hands on either side of your thighs, dip his head between those spread knees and ravage his way up.

Hanzo kisses.  _Mmm_. Bites.  _Ah!_ And licks.  _Oooh~_

Your soft, sensitive inner thighs littered with glistening red marks by the time he has your nightgown pushed up around your waist. Hanzo’s heavy breath ghosts over your bare lower lips. His tongue flicks out from between his lips just barely getting a taste of your clit. Another brief peak of pink muscle to get a taste of the slick warmed it’s way out of your body while you were watching him bathe. 

The top of his pretty head is tempting. You can’t help but reach out and run both of your hands through his silky hair as your dragging nails along his scalp, continuing down the back of his neck, ‘til you have no more reach and need to drag them back. Slowly, harder. Until Hanzo can’t deal with the jolts your sending through his body and snatches up your wrists.

Very suddenly they’re slammed down on the mat on either side of your head. Firm, but not bruising. And his face is a mere inch from yours. Hanzo growls, hovering over your lips as he grinds his pelvis against your own. His weighty, wet cock sliding between your folds. Rolling your hips with his, your tummy convulses with want as his length glides over your clit. Closing the minute distance you kiss him deeply. Moaning blissfully as a deep kiss quickly turns into a messy one. Open mouthed, full of tongue, and shared moaning.   

Hanzo lets go of your wrists so he can grope. One rough, callused, and hard-working hand kneading the meat of your ass. The other yanking your nightgown up. Bunched above your breasts. Palms one of them, nipple pebbling under his palm. You just can’t get enough of his indecisive hands. How they grope and fondle wherever they may roam. Your own hands have found their way back into his hair. Gripping tight, tugging lightly; water dripping down your arms from between clutched fingers.

Blissed; overwhelmed in a cloud of your husbands heat you’re content to keep your hands there– that is until the ache in your pussy becomes so persistent that you have to reach down and dig the tips of your fingers in the swell of his toned ass. You want him inside of you. Need him to fill your pink, wet space. Warm you from deep inside.

A desperate whimper, a pitiful whine against his mouth. “Oh…  _Gods_ , Hanzo…  _please_ ,” you beg. “Fuck me.” 

Hanzo sits back on his thighs, his beautiful, fully erect, ruddy cock bobs and twitches against his stomach muscles, eyeing your breasts as they heave with anticipation. Lifts your legs and tosses them onto his shoulders. Leans forward, his thick cock angled perfectly to press against your entrance. Hanzo eases in with an animal-like grunt and a tight jaw, stretching and filling you deliciously slow ‘til his hips are flush with your own. Rocks into you, steadily picking up pace. Hitting deep with every slap of his hips against your own. 

Every intrusive thrust has the both of you panting. Breathy while saying his name over and over; quiet, not quite a moan. Hands clawed onto his strong thighs, pulling in tandem with every deep sheath of his cock, encouraging him to go _harder._ It doesn’t take long for your toes to curl beside his ears, and your legs to shake. Throwing your head back with sharp intakes of breath and a gaped mouth. 

Effortlessly Hanzo flips your over. Quickly you grab ahold of the furs that Hanzo tossed to the side. Stuff them under your body, something to cling onto. Your able to hop up onto your knees, arch your back fast enough, despite how shaky they might feel. But you can’t spread them quick enough for him. Hanzo grabs ahold of your ankles and spread your legs wide. Slams them down, grabs your hips and yanks you back. Easily slipping back inside your pussy within a thrust. 

Hanzo sets an immediate brutal pace. Pounding away at your core while you bury your face in the soft furs. Mewling, moaning, and clawing at the blankets. Viscous slaps, your sex making the lewdest sounds. A consistent pace, strong, gruff hands bruising your soft hips and the heavy breathing at your back flowers pressure in your belly again. It releases and you clench tightly down around him. Walls fluttering so nicely that Hanzo cums too. Falls over on top of you wrapping his arms tightly around your waist while he growls and grunts his way through his orgasm right into your ear. 

Hanzo stays there for a few moments nuzzling his face into your neck. Making you giggle as his beard rubs against a few tender spots. His weight pinning you down, the best kind of blanket, and your content to stay here as long as it takes for him to gather himself together. He sighs, kisses your shoulders. Carefully sits himself up so you can turn over and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Are you tired?” he asks. Having you thinking that he’s already rearing to get primed for round two. Not a God, he says. 

“Nope,” you say. “Aren’t  _you_  tired?” you ask. Crane your neck and start to kiss your way up his tattooed arm. Returning the lavish nature of welts he left on your inner thighs. 

“Exhausted, but content to be so.” The statement stops your ministrations in their tracks. “Would you read to me?” he asks. 

Grinning you ask, “Giants Of The Sea?” Hanzo nods. “Of course!” He backs off for a moment. Allowing you enough room to roll over to the edge of the mat, open up a medium-sized wooden box by the bed, and grab a book from inside it. You straighten out your nightgown and sit crosslegged. Allowing Hanzo who doesn’t feel like covering up to lay back resting his head on your lap. Before you open up the book you state, “and no, before you accuse me, I did  _not_  read ahead this time.” 


End file.
